


the things we do slowly

by hachimitsuto



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Slice of Life, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21755665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hachimitsuto/pseuds/hachimitsuto
Summary: Junhui makes trips to the convenience store.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 2
Kudos: 108





	the things we do slowly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yoonbot (iverins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iverins/gifts).



> dearest sapphy,
> 
> happy birthday!! thank you for always being so supportive of me, particularly in the past few months when i kept having meltdowns over my fic! i hope you will have a great day! and i hope we can always be good friends who run together to the deadline gates [sweats]!!! i love you so much ♡♡♡
> 
> \+ i wrote this in a rush so please kindly ignore any mistakes u__u also hey i wrote a wonhui!!!! this is #sapphy3rdwin

There’s a new tenant in the last room down the hallway. Wonwoo didn’t see him when he moved in, but heard muffled Chinese language once or twice coming from the room as he unlocked the door to his own room.

Then, one evening:

“I’m Junhui.”

Junhui is tall, just around his height. Sharp features and high cheekbones. His Adam’s apple bobs as he pulls his lips into a smile. Wonwoo doesn’t smile back. “Wonwoo.”

“I’m going to the convenience store. Do you want anything?”

Wonwoo turns the key. “Nah.”

“See you around!” says Junhui, bright. He raises a hand without waving, like what celebrities do on red carpet when they pose for the cameras. From a distance, they can hear cicadas singing their melancholic tunes. Then Wonwoo remembers, it’s the first day of summer.

Wonwoo says nothing and closes the door.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The place he lives in is a rundown apartment complex older than any of its current residents. It’s small with a narrow hallway that two people can’t walk without brushing their shoulders, and sometimes the hot water gets cut in the middle of showering. But the rent is cheap and he can walk to campus, so that’s all that matters.

Wonwoo bumps into Junhui at least three times a week. Junhui goes to the same university, but from a different department. That’s what he heard from Soonyoung, who lives on the floor above them. Soonyoung is friends with everyone. He’s not.

Junhui would be slipping on his sandals almost every time they run into each other. Wonwoo would be slipping his key into the knob.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Junhui has an enigmatic smile. Wonwoo doesn’t know if it’s the right word. None of the books he’s read have ever described this kind of smile.

“Need anything from the convenience store?” Junhui asks.

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No thanks.”

Cicadas keep singing.

  
  
  
  
  
  
One day, he finds a plastic bag hanging on his door knob filled with different sorts of snacks. Inside the bag, there’s also a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook. 

_these were on discounts! didn’t know what you like so i got my favourites._

There’s no name on the paper, but for some reason Wonwoo can tell right away who they’re from. He can’t tell, though, if Junhui knows it’s his birthday or if it’s just a coincidental thing.

  
  
  
  
  
“You don’t like snacks,” Soonyoung says when he finds Wonwoo reading in an empty lecture hall, a bag of corn chips on the table.

Wonwoo reaches for a handful and pops them into his mouth. He finished the snacks Junhui gave him two days ago. This one he bought this morning when he was looking for a canned coffee. “I don’t.”

Soonyoung snorts. Wonwoo goes back to his book, but his mind is elsewhere.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Hey.” Junhui’s tousling his damp hair. The rainy season has started, but it doesn’t seem to stop him from making his routine trips to the convenience store.

“Hey.” Wonwoo’s on his way from the laundry room, carrying a huge basket that contains a week’s worth of laundry. He has no idea where he’s supposed to hang all of these, now that it’s raining.

“Do you want to borrow my hair dryer?” asks Junhui.

“For what?”

“Your clothes.”

Wonwoo looks at his pile, then looks back at Junhui. Junhui is flashing a grin that reminds him of the cat that always lingers outside the library building. “Don’t you need it even more right now?” he says.

Junhui breaks into a laugh. “I probably do,” he says, then reaches for his plastic bag for a vacuum-packed sausage and puts it on top of Wonwoo’s laundry. “A present.”

“Was it on discount?” Wonwoo raises his brows.

“No, but it’s my favourite.”

“You have a lot of favourites.”

“There’s a lot of good things in the convenience store.” Junhui chuckles again. “What’s your favourite?”

Wonwoo doesn’t go there enough times to have any, but Junhui’s looking at him the way the cat does as it waits for him to tear open the kibbles. “Canned coffee, I guess,” he shrugs.

“I see.” Junhui hums.

Summer reaches its peak.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


One day, he hears an unfamiliar voice while digging into his backpack for his keys. Soft and giggly. She speaks Chinese.

Wonwoo glances at Junhui’s door. He doesn’t hear cicadas today.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Junhui is slipping into his sandals when Wonwoo reaches his room. It’s not raining today.

“Need anything?”

Wonwoo slips his key into the knob and turns. “Nah.”

Then closes the door.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He doesn’t see Junhui for a week.

On the eighth day, he bumps into a girl. In her hand is a plastic bag full of snacks that Junhui likes. Her other hand is holding a thermos.

“Are you Junhui’s friend?” she asks Wonwoo after they passed each other.

Wonwoo blinks at her. He doesn’t know if he’s a friend.

“I’m his - well, he’s my brother-in-law’s cousin, but we just tell people we’re cousins,” she says. “I’m Jieqiong.”

He recognizes the voice. The same one he heard weeks ago coming from Junhui’s room. Soft and giggly. She speaks Korean now to Wonwoo.

“Junhui caught a bad flu,” she tells him.

Oh. “He goes out without an umbrella all the time.”

“Right? He thinks he’s invincible.”

For some reason, that makes him laugh. And how Junhui goes to the convenience store almost every evening but never buys an umbrella.

“I can’t come to check on him everyday, so can you do that for me? At least, make sure he doesn’t die.”

Wonwoo chuckles again, then hears coughing from Junhui’s room. “Okay.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day, Wonwoo leaves a bag filled with pre-prepped meals good for two days and a cough syrup. He also leaves a nameless note that says, _please buy an umbrella next time_.

And under that, his number.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Junhui makes it out alive.

He’s slipping into his shoes when Wonwoo reaches home. “Thanks for the food,” he says to Wonwoo, bright.

“I never thanked you for the snacks.” Wonwoo shrugs. “Did you get an umbrella?”

“Not yet,” Junhui laughs, melodious, almost like the cicadas. He’s wearing a cardigan, and Wonwoo realizes that summer is slipping away. “I’m going to the convenience store now.”

Wonwoo fiddles with his keys in his hands. Lately, he has a taste for the corn chips. He forgot to buy it this morning when he bought his coffee. He meets Junhui’s gaze.

Junhui’s lips pull into a smile. “Wanna go together?”

They don’t hear the cicadas anymore these days, but Wonwoo thinks there’s a subtle magic to the stillness of fall nights. He smiles back.


End file.
